Solitary Pain
by the lurker
Summary: After a rough away mission, Picard is having problems Crusher and Troi try to help him through it.


STAR TREK: TNG  
Solitary Pain  
by the lurker  
  
He turned on his side once again, but sleep still evaded him. Even the hum of the ship, which normally helped lull him into peaceful slumber, only served to aggravate him. He rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps their recent mission to Tulles IV _had_ taken a toll on him; Troi indicated as much, but he had dismissed her suggestion of down time summarily. He was fine. _But was he?_  
  
There hadn't been one night since his return from the devastation on the planet that he hadn't awakened in a cold sweat, his mind filled with the horrible images of death. An entire colony of humans wiped out by an emotionless enemy. It was an enemy that Picard recognized immediately; one he knew intimately. He shivered uncontrollably. There would be no sleep, he knew that. Jean-Luc sat up and exhaled a long breath. In a few hours, the ship's doctor would show up at his quarters for breakfast. How much longer would he be able to hide this from her? He shook his head. There would be no hiding from Dr. Crusher or Counselor Troi, and he knew it.  
  
Picard stood up, and pulled his workout clothes on. Maybe some exercise would help calm his nerves.  
  
**********  
He crawled under the thick brush in the chase for his quarry. They were barely a few meters away, across a small compound filled with huts. The sleek handle of the scythe felt cool in his hand. He gripped it tightly, preparing to launch his attack. The tall one was finishing the demolition of a small generator. He harvested the parts, handing them to the smaller one on his right. They were unaware of the silent observer.  
  
With a primal scream, he jumped from the bushes, attacking with the scythe. He swung the weapon hard at the tall one, cutting him deeply across the back. The smaller one grabbed a hold of the end of the scythe, pulling with an inhuman strength. He felt himself being flung off his feet and through the air. The tall one, bleeding badly, pulled him up off the ground and began pounding him with his mechanical arm. Blow after blow struck him in the face and midsection. He struggled against his attacker, but he sensed himself becoming lightheaded.   
  
As darkness began to envelope him, it hit him that he may have made a fatal mistake. The sound of the voice nearby filled him with relief.  
  
Computer, end program.  
  
The tall Borg holding Picard, dropped him as the scene dissolved into the black grid of the holodeck. Beverly Crusher came quickly toward him, assessing his injuries, while she scolded him.  
  
What the hell were you thinking? The fail-safe was off. You could have been killed, Jean-Luc.  
  
He leaned into her hand, which was gently caressing his face.  
  
I didn't realize it....  
  
Beverly knew him well, and recognized a lie when she heard it.  
  
You can't change what they did on Tulles IV by engaging in hand-to-hand combat with them on the holodeck. What happened wasn't your fault, Jean-Luc, anymore than when they turned you into Locutus.  
  
His eyes held the pain of a man who had simply seen too much, and she had to look away. She ran her hands down his torso, and he grimaced.  
  
Come on, you've got three broken ribs, and who knows what else.  
  
He allowed her to help him up, heavily leaning on her for support. Beverly helped him out of the holodeck, and they headed to sickbay.   
  
***********  
Crusher had mended his broken ribs and was cleaning up the lacerations on his face and hands when Troi entered. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she walked slowly to the side of his biobed.  
  
Are you all right?  
  
He nodded, I'll be fine, Counselor.  
  
Troi frowned at him, You're not fine, Captain, and we both know it. You haven't been fine since the mission on Tulles IV. We're going to have to deal with this sooner or later, and it looks like sooner gets the call.  
  
He glared at her, I told you, I'm fine. It was just an accident on the holodeck...could have happened to anybody.  
  
Beverly piped up, Yeah, to anyone dumb enough to remove the holodeck fail-safe.  
  
Picard ignored the barb, exhaling a tired sigh of air. Troi's look softened slightly as she sensed the Captain's weariness. She touched his shoulder lightly.  
  
You're exhausted, we'll talk later, after you've had some rest.  
  
He glared at her, Rest? I'm due on the bridge, Counselor.  
  
Picard started up, but Crusher restrained him.  
  
You're not going anywhere, Captain. And that's an order.  
  
Dr. Crusher, I assure you I'm fine.  
  
And I'm the doctor, Captain, and I say you're not. You need rest, and that's exactly what you're going to get.  
  
Troi's voice was calm, I'll come back later.  
  
Picard watched Troi's egress out the door, and then noticed the hypo in Beverly's hand.  
  
What's that?  
  
Something that will help you sleep.  
  
  
  
No arguments, Jean-Luc. You almost got yourself killed with that holodeck stunt. Honestly...  
  
She pushed the end of the hypo into his arm, and set the instrument down on a nearby tray. Picard could feel the drug wash through him, and he allowed himself to relax into the pillow under his head. His eyelids felt heavy.  
  
  
  
  
  
His voice sounded sleepy, I'm sorry....  
  
I know. She brushed her hand across his forehead, Rest now. I won't be far away.  
  
His eyes fluttered closed and Crusher adjusted the covers up over his chest. She was worried about him. Physically he would fine with some rest, but emotionally; that was another problem. Beverly went into her office and pressed the com link.  
  
Crusher to Troi.  
  
Troi here.  
  
Deanna....can you come back down here?  
  
Is the Captain all right?  
  
He's sleeping. Can we talk?  
  
On my way.  
  
Beverly went to the replicator in the wall, Tea, Early Grey, milk and sugar. Hot.  
  
The steaming cup appeared a moment later, and the doctor took it to her desk, sipping it on her way. Tea always made her feel better, but not today. Jean-Luc had never looked so tired, and she couldn't remember the last time that he had put so many emotional barriers between them. He had been shutting her out, and she felt powerless to do anything about it. Picard was not a man who was easy to confront on emotional issues; and when he was trying to cover up something that was bothering him, he was even worse.  
  
But what Crusher had witnessed on the holodeck had scared her, and on some level she was angry with him for making her taste such fear. It brought back all the feelings of helplessness when Jack died. Beverly closed her eyes; she needed to focus on helping Jean-Luc, not on her own feelings of fear. It was the only way she would be able to help him.  
  
She took another sip of tea. Yet she felt no better...  
  
***********  
_The countryside was similar to his native France; or at least, it had been before the Borg scorched it. There was nothing left. Not a tree, plant, nor any other living thing. They exterminated all life and then harvested the technology and machines. The away team moved toward what was left of the center of the main city of Tulles IV. It was little more than rubble, the smoke from the fire still rising. They moved among the charred remains of the people, and the smell turned his stomach. A young ensign passed out, and even some of the more seasoned crew turned white as sheets from the sights.  
  
Picard sent most of them back to the ship: there was nothing they could do here to help, it was too late. He and Riker walked into what was left of one of the buildings, and split up, in search of any survivors. Picard knew they wouldn't find any; he knew the Borg would have left nothing behind. That was when he heard the muffled cries. Frantically, Picard looked through the chunks of stone and concrete, burning his hands when he touched pieces that were still smoking.   
  
And he found her. A little girl of no more than six; at least that's what he guessed from her size. Her features were so badly scorched he couldn't tell anything from looking at her face. His stomach lurched at the charred flesh hanging off her skeleton. Her eyes were burnt out of their sockets. Why she was still alive, he couldn't fathom. It took all of his training and control to go to her, but he hesitated to touch her. She reached her arms out, having heard him approach.  
  
Picard yelled for Riker, Will! I need you!  
  
Papa? Papa....please, where are you?  
  
Picard swallowed hard and bent down next to the child.  
  
It's all right....  
  
Papa. Please don't leave me here.  
  
He turned to the child and pulled her into his arms, sitting on a large piece of stone. She screamed in pain, and he winced. He punched his communicator.  
  
Picard to Crusher. Medical emergency. Two to beam directly to sickbay....  
  
But nothing happened. There was no response. He hit his communicator again.  
  
Picard to Enterprise. Picard to--  
  
Will rushed in, --It's no use, there's some kind of inter-- He saw the child, --Oh my God. Riker knelt next to his commanding officer, Is she....?  
  
Still alive? Yes.  
  
Papa? What happened?  
  
Picard's eyes closed momentarily while he searched for the strength he needed, It's all right, darling. It's okay.  
  
Everything hurts.  
  
I know. He turned to Riker, Will, we need to get her to sickbay.  
  
I don't understand what could be interfering. I'll try it outside.  
  
Picard watched his second in command leave the room, and he pulled the girl closer to him.  
  
  
  
I'm here.  
  
Why can't I see anything? It's so dark.  
  
Yes....it's just dark in here, that's all.  
  
I don't feel anything now. It's cold.  
  
Picard knew she was dying. If only he could save this one child, they wouldn't win. He would do anything to save her; anything to beat the Borg. He just wanted to save this one girl. Somehow, it would make a difference. He felt his eyes sting with tears and he looked up to keep them from falling. The little girl reached up toward his face with a charred hand.  
  
Papa....I'm scared.  
  
His voice was barely a whisper, I know. Me too.  
  
He pulled her closer into him, and what was left of her lips crinkled into a smile.  
  
I love you, Papa.  
  
I love--   
  
Picard's voice cracked , and he broke into a sob as the little girl went limp in his arms. He buried his face into her burnt hair, crying as he had not done since the day he was free of Locutus. The Borg had once again damaged his heart, and caused him a pain he couldn't bear. And the worst part was how helpless and alone he felt....._  
  
***********  
Deanna could feel the strength of Beverly's worry; in many ways, it echoed her own. The counselor sat across from the doctor in her office, sipping from her own mug of tea.  
  
The enemy on the holodeck...you're sure it was Borg?  
  
Positive. That's not something I could mistake, Deanna.  
  
No, I suppose it isn't. Troi took a sip from the mug, Tulles IV brought it all back to him.  
  
Locutus, you mean?  
  
Troi nodded, Yes, especially after what he went through down there.....  
  
She couldn't finish the thought.   
  
What can we do?  
  
We won't be able to push him, Beverly. He just hasn't been ready to verbalize the experience yet.  
  
It would have been traumatic for anyone.  
  
Worse for him given his history with the Borg.  
  
The bloodcurdling screams from the other room sent the two women running toward the biobed. Picard was hysterical and still asleep. Beverly pushed his upper body back down on the bed, and Troi grabbed his legs which were thrashing about.  
  
His voice was full of distress, No....please, no..... I can't save her! So alone...  
  
Jean-Luc....Jean-Luc. It's okay. Jean-Luc!  
  
His eyes snapped open with one final scream, and he grabbed Beverly tightly around the neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.   
  
Shhh....you're okay. I've got you, Jean-Luc. Everything's fine.  
  
Troi rubbed his legs gently, trying to soothe him. Neither one of them had ever seen Jean-Luc Picard in such a state of panic. His breath was coming in short gasps, and his eyes were wide with fear. Beverly tenderly massaged his neck, in an attempt to relieve the tension and calm him down. He buried his face into her, sobbing as if he would never be able to stop. Crusher let her hand move down to his back, pressing into his muscles as she rubbed him.  
  
It's okay to let it go, Jean-Luc.  
  
After several minutes, Picard collapsed in Crusher's arms, exhausted. She gently lay him down on the biobed, adjusting his head on the pillow and the cover on top of him. Troi continued to softly run her hands up and down his legs while Beverly prepared a hypo. Crusher injected the contents into him with a hiss of the instrument, and momentarily his breathing was steady and calm. The doctor stroked his cheek with her hand a few times, and lowered the light above his biobed.   
  
Crusher turned to Troi, her voice full of stress and tears in her eyes, How will we get him through this?  
  
The same way we got him through his abduction by the Borg, Beverly; one day at a time.  
  
Troi put an arm around Beverly, and together, they watched the steady rise and fall of Captain Jean-Luc Picard's chest for a moment. Deanna squeezed Crusher's shoulder.  
  
He'll be okay, Beverly. We'll see to it.  
  
Troi walked toward Crusher's office, and Beverly lingered by the bed for a moment. She ran a soft hand across the cover over Picard's foot. He moaned in his sleep. She wasn't sure if it was in reaction to her touch or if he was in pain. The doctor moved closer and picked up his hand, holding it tightly in hers. He muttered in his sleep.  
  
So alone....  
  
Hush, Jean-Luc, you're not alone.  
  
The End  
  



End file.
